and now's our moment
by symphonies of you
Summary: "You don't understand why you feel those godforsaken butterflies fluttering and trying to escape when you're near him, when you're next to him, when you're studying with him, when you're laughing with or at him. " -rosescorpius, one-shot.


For the first time, I have written fluffy rosescorpius, so I hope you like it!

**DISCLAIMER**: Don't own. JKR does. :)

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**WORDS**: 1,116.

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take my hand, i'll teach you to dance

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You take a step and you wonder. You look up at the midnight sky and you wonder who scattered a multitude of stars and wishes in the endless sea of black. You wonder if love is real and unending like you've always believed, you wonder if you're allowed to love more than once, you wonder if love will ever stay true and _unbending_ like the fairytales tell you. The fairytales sing of perfection and dreams, the fairytales weave lyrics of true love and bliss into your skin, your mind, your soul. The enthralling words are forever branded into your very being, and your thoughts echo them like tidal waves breaking the still waters, interrupting your attempts at normalcy and simplicity.

You wonder if you are gullible, if you are naïve, if you are insane—

(If you are insane enough to give love another chance, an undeserved chance.)

Is love light? Is it dark? Is love good? Is it evil?

One will never truly know, you reckon. Love is evasive, an elusive shadow hiding from the world's scrutiny. Love is someone who doesn't want to be figured out, to be laid bare, vulnerable and exposed, for the world to see.

Love is just like you and me. You reckon that you'll only get to know love when you're closed off from the world like she (he?) is. You wonder why you're personifying love. Is love a person? Is love in the form of a person?

If love is in the form of a person, you think that love is Scorpius Malfoy. You don't understand why you feel inebriated, giddy, and lightheaded around the devil. You don't understand why you feel those godforsaken butterflies fluttering and trying to escape when you're near him, when you're next to him, when you're studying with him, when you're laughing with or at him.

Is love power-hungry?

You don't understand why he is able to make you laugh like you do only when you're around him. You don't understand why it's so, so, _so _easy to let go and be yourself around him, around this boy, who used to be a person of intense dislike in the past. You remember how much you detested him, how much he made you cry yourself to sleep, how much you loathed being near him. You don't know when it all changed, but you _do _know that what you feel now isn't hate.

Oh, how the tides have turned!

(You wonder who filled the blue seas with water and possibilities.)

Are you in love? Are you in love again? Is love an endless cycle of loss and regret and hope and joy?

You stare at him. You stare at his platinum-blonde hair, his prominent nose, his gray eyes that make you want to blush and sing and dance all at once. You stare at him and wonder how he can make you feel so much exhilaration, so much emotion intermingled with your doubts, your beliefs, your questions.

Fire dances in your veins, into your heart, out through your arteries, into your bloodstream. You can feel flames licking your insides, making you feel a raw intensity of perplexity that is inexplicable, indescribable, incomprehensible. You have no words to describe these tingling sensations, this electrifying lunacy empowering the song that your heart is singing, a captivating melody that you can surely hear now.

You love him. You are quite sure you love him because love is inexplicable and indescribable and incomprehensible.

You can feel the fire breathing—inhaling and exhaling like a living thing. You wonder why you feel the urge to personify everything that crosses your mind.

Is fire a person too?

(Probably not.)

You gasp when he looks at you with those brilliant eyes; it's like there is a raging storm with lightning and thunderclaps out at sea in his eyes. You gasp because the fire surges through your entire being and you are absolutely sure that your whole body is ablaze.

Has he noticed that you are lit like the wandering fingers of a bonfire reaching out to the winking stars that illuminate the heavens?

You're in love, you're in love, you're in love.

The fire is crackling in your bones, and your bones are slowly turning to gray ash, gray like his eyes. A beautiful phoenix is reborn from the ashes, and you know that your heart is telling you that you're ready to start anew. You hold your breath because you're ready to start anew but you don't know if he reciprocates your feelings, your insurmountable feelings.

He touches your cheek so, so, _so _gently, and you have forgotten how to breathe.

(Inhale? Exhale?)

You hope with all your might that he isn't teasing you this time because he loves to tease you, to infuriate you, to confuse you. He's a hopeless flirt, and you're a hopeless romantic. Your two worlds collide perfectly in an inevitable shower of sparks.

"You're _beautiful_, Rose. And no, I'm not teasing you," he whispers, effortlessly reading your mind in that maddening way of his.

_You're beautiful, Rose._ You trap those words between your fingers, cupping them in your hands and holding them to your chest. You think you'll treasure them forever, or however long eternity is.

You tell him that he makes you feel beautiful and you peek at him to see his reaction, to see if this is all a game to him and you're about to have your heart thrown at the wall and shattered into a thousand shards of pain and brokenness.

He blushes. You can't help but grin because you made a Malfoy blush, you made _Scorpius _blush.

And then, he scowls at your grin, and it's the most endearing thing you have ever seen.

You stand on your tiptoes and you kiss that scowl off of his lips, memorising the feel of his lips against yours. A sudden warmness creeps into your belly and forks out in all directions, to your head and your hands and your toes. He smiles against your lips and kisses you back with a tenderness that turns your legs to jelly. He tangles his long fingers with your dark red curls, and you run your fingers through his hair, his soft platinum-blonde hair that you've been wanting to touch for decades, ages, eons.

Love exists. It exists in a true form, tucked away in a corner of a place you'll never find because you can't find love.

Love finds _you_.

You're in love with him.

You're in love with him because if this isn't love, then what is?

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'cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love

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**A/N**: This is just something that came to me at about one in the morning. Sorry if it doesn't make sense or anything.

Just in case you were wondering, the song that I used is ''All About Us'' by He Is We.

Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)

-nic.


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